


Only If You're Interested

by awkwardedgeworth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, thirty something year olds figuring out their life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23777266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardedgeworth/pseuds/awkwardedgeworth
Summary: Bokuto claps his hands together, "Oh, how about you hang out with friends?""I have no friends," Akaashi deadpans.A firefighter and an overworked office worker meets. There are fires, ASMR, sleepless nights and conbini store raids.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 11
Kudos: 185





	Only If You're Interested

**Author's Note:**

> lmao if there are glaring contradictions about the big four and firefighting please look the other way, i know nothing about financial firms other than the brief thirty minute google search i had while writing this
> 
> stay safe folks. and wash your hands for at least two rounds of happy birthdays.

"You look terrible."

It takes Bokuto a few seconds to fully digest the sentence directed at him. When he looks up, Kuroo is frowning and holding a bag of takeout.

Bokuto yawns, scrubbing his face up and down and trying to clean the mess of empty coffee cans on the table as Kuroo starts arranging their dinner. They're 46 hours into their 48 hour shift and it's only two more hours before Bokuto can slip into a semi-coma for two days until he has to come back in. Someone is screaming in the bathroom hall, it must be Lev.

"Is that food?" Hinata whizzes into the break room, nose sniffing the air hopefully. His orange hair clashes horrifically with the red t-shirt he's wearing. Kageyama saunters in after him hungrily, still a little bashful and afraid of the others.

"Gather 'round, gather 'round," Kuroo calls. Several more heads pop into the break room, and Lev eventually emerges shivering from his cold shower, hair plastered to his skull. Bokuto moans in bliss, stuffing his face further with the black bean sauce from a small twenty-four hour joint down the street.

"Handling it okay?" Their Captain, Sumida, asks the new hires. Hinata nods enthusiastically, chirping about how he's excited to go home and sleep.

"That's life basically," Bokuto cuts in, inhaling some water, "Work, sleep for your off days and then work again. Hobbies? What's that?"

"Hear, hear!" The table laughs. They stop laughing when their dispatch operator's voice filters in through the speakers in the ceiling.

" _Reporting a fire in Mushashino block—_ " The voice emphatically calls out. Bokuto leaps away from the table, dashing out of the break room as the disembodied voice follows them to the work room full of desks and maps. He and Kuroo swipe the papers flying off the fax machine, " _—A_ _fire in a backyard i_ _s affecting six other close units. Reports flooding in from nearby houses._ "

"Go get dressed!" He barks to Hinata. Hinata makes a distressed noise and runs away to the locker room. Bokuto scans the map on the table, finding the house allegedly on fire and frowning when he sees that it's in a middle of a one-way street.

"Can you figure out a way to get there?"

"Not ideal," Bokuto points to the two lane street at the end of the block, "Close squeeze but the hoses should be long enough, Let's GO! GO GO!"

They shrug on their jackets from the nearby chair, sprinting to the garage. Bokuto shoves his oxygen tank to Kuroo and jumps in the driver's seat, starting the engine as their Captain squeezes into the truck with Kageyama struggling with the chin strap of his helmet.

"Go, Bokuto!"

"Going!" Bokuto guns the engine and starts the sirens, slowly merging onto the road as Sumida briefs the situation.

"Looks like a sparkler went out of control," Sumida tsks. Bokuto presses the horn on the steering wheel, "Teenagers didn't think of having a bucket of water nearby and parents are out. It's recycling day tomorrow and everyone has their magazines and cardboard tied up in the back."

"How did it travel so fast?" Kageyama asks. 

"We'll worry about that later," Kuroo waves it away. Bokuto takes a very hard left, grinding his teeth in stress as he clears the smaller roads. He honks again, trying not to drive over curious residents and running way-ward children on summer holidays. Of course there's a nearby festival tonight and foot traffic is high, "You know where the water reservoir is, Kageyama?"

"Yes."

"Good, good. Well here we are!" Kuroo looks up, grinning. Bokuto kills the engine and hops out, opening a side compartment and pulling hoses out. The heat from the burning backyard makes the summer night more disgusting, Bokuto wipes his sweat uselessly with the cuffs of his jacket. Lev is keeping residents out of the way, a clipboard in hand as he takes numbers of who's present and who might be missing. 

He stands back as Kuroo and the others race forward with hoses. The muggy summer air is suddenly filled with cold water droplets. He enters the truck and radios dispatch, watching the scene and keeping an eye out just in case they need backup.

When the orange dies out and the sky is filled with air again, Bokuto looks at the clock and notes that it's time to clock out.

"I thought you got black out curtains this time?" Kuroo comments warily when Bokuto shuffles into the building like a zombie, scanning his key card through the door.

"Got black out curtains, eye mask, ear plugs AND melatonin, I don't know why I still feel tired," He spent his off days trying to regain as much sleep as possible, becoming a recluse in his own apartment and skipping two gym sessions with his favorite zumba trainer. The rest of the days were filled with researching how he could better his sleep and going to the big, expensive supermarket two stations over for melatonin.

Kuroo hums, "Tried ASMR?"

"What's that?"

"It's like...white background noise. But _better_ ," Kuroo shows him his phone screen. Bokuto immediately salivates at a picture of someone eating a large bowl of cheesy noodles, so excited at the thought of food that he doesn't detect Kuroo slipping headphones over his ears, pressing the start button.

And for some reason...the chewing sounds and the sound of wooden chopsticks twirling noodles on wooden spoon was soothing enough that he drifted off. It wasn't until Bokuto blinked awake, in the dark room he shared with Kuroo, that he realized this was the first time he slept for eight hours in a very long time. He looks down at Kuroo's phone in his lap that's about to die; Kuroo left it on playlist mode.

"How did you find out about this?" He asks Kuroo over breakfast. They popped by a nearby Sukiya for breakfast. Kuroo is the one carrying the radio with him this time, discreetly hidden underneath his rain jacket and clipped to his belt. The joint is filled with businessmen and older retired folks chatting over tea.

"When I eat my poor man meals I put on someone eating a lobster seafood feast and pretend that I'm rich enough to afford it."

It was not the answer he was expecting, "Huh."

"Don't judge me," Kuroo rolls his eyes, "Anyway, my favorite is this guy—" He pulls out his phone, "—ashi25183."

"Ashi25183," Bokuto repeats, pulling out his phone and typing it into Youtube's search bar. It's filled with hundreds of videos ranging from food ones (as always, with the head of the person missing from the frame) and 'trigger-specific' ones, whatever that means. He immediately taps subscribed, excited to regain his normal sleeping habits again, "Thanks man, I think I'll really sleep soundly this time!"

Kuroo smiles back.

"You're looking better, Bokuto," Yaku says when the next team clocks in for shift relief. Bokuto has just ended his short speech about the prank calls they've gotten recently to the incoming team's captain.

He scratches his head. He didn't realize he looked so terrible that _everyone_ had picked up on it, "Er yea, Kuroo introduced me to...ASMR. It's been helping."

" _Ohhh_ I've heard of that. Good for you then!" Yaku slaps his back and walks off, whistling. He screams as Lev jumps out of a cabinet. Bokuto shrugs his backpack on, leaving the building as he pops into a nearby convenience store and buys the last ready-to-eat food to hold him off until morning when he can grocery shop.

He stands in line behind a tired looking business man in typical office blacks, one shoulder clamping his phone to his ear as he watches the cashier scan his items.

"Yes.... Yes, I'm walking right back to the office as we speak," The man mumbles, "Yes, good night." He releases a heavy sigh out of his nose, shoulders slumping down.

The cashier taps several buttons, announcing in a chirpy bright voice, "That'll be one thousand seven hundred and eighty-nine yen!"

"Ah," The stranger in front of him pats all his pockets, hand curling into a fist as his shoulders tense. "I...forgot my wallet."

The cashier gives him a frozen smile, "Pardon?"

Bokuto looks at the way the office worker looks close to a mental breakdown with his tense jaw and bobbing throat as he re-pats the same pockets he's been patting, "Never mind, I'll—"

He decides to shoulder in, brandishing his credit card like a white flag of surrender, "I can pay! I can pay!"

"Eh?" The cashier blinks at him. 

"It's ok!" Bokuto reassures the stranger, who had turned to stare at him, "Really! It's not a big deal, it's not that much, right? Here, here's my card. And you might as well add my basket in," Bokuto gestures to his snacks.

"Right, I will be charging this card then~" The cashier says in a sing-song voice, bagging their items separately with the fastest hands Bokuto has ever seen. "Here is your receipt and card back, thank you for shopping with us!"

"Here," Bokuto hands the stranger his plastic bag, smiling.

The stranger blinks at him behind his glasses, warily reaching out for the bag, "...Thank you." His voice reminds Bokuto of his father sinking into the couch after his shift.

"Take care!" Bokuto waves at the cashier, pocketing his wallet in his pocket and greeting the balmy air. He makes a fast pace to the end of the block before someone calls out for him.

"Excuse me!" The stranger huffs, running after him as his tie follows behind. Bokuto halts, standing on the corner as a gaggle of university students shuffle past rowdily.

The stranger hurriedly pulls out a business card from a card holder, bowing slightly to him, "I'd like to give you back the money I owe. Please call me at that number and we can arrange a time and date. I know exactly how much I owe."

"It was just two tempura bowls, juice and some other stuff," Bokuto scratches his head, trying to peer at the stranger's expression while he's still bowing his head. He just wants to dive in his bed and pass out until morning comes, "It's okay."

The stranger shakes his head, "No, I insist."

Bokuto glances down at the card reluctantly, "...If that's what you want."

"It is," The stranger straightens and bows again, "Thank you then. Good night."

Bokuto stares as the man turns on his heels and marches away to a collection of office towers shooting high into the stars. He looks down at the card, gently pushed aside as more people shuffle past him.

Akaashi Keiji,  
Freelancer  
FKDN Co.

He lounges beneath the shade of a tall building as he patiently waits, looking around the smoke area of FKDN's back gardens as reporters and editors huddle around a metal ashtray in a corner. There's a fountain nearby with several employees sitting in front of it, enjoying the off-season cold breeze.

"Thank you for waiting, Bokuto-san."

"Hey, hey," He turns to find Akaashi standing in the exact same outfit as he saw him last— black dress pants and a pressed white shirt. His employee ID hangs around his neck, the lanyard adorned with a pen sticking through.

"Here," Akaashi holds out a white envelope with two hands, "The money I owe. Thank you for helping me out the other night."

Bokuto accepts it with two hands, feeling like he had to or else someone like Kuroo would peer around the corner and mouth ' _bad manners_ ' at him, "It's not that big of a deal, but thank you. Is work okay?"

Akaashi straightens, blinking at him, "Work?"

"You looked stressed the other day. There were muscle relaxant patches with your food, right?" Bokuto wonders if he's being too nosy. He waves his hands, "Th-That's only if you want to tell me. I can be nosy. Sorry."

Akaashi looks at the ground. His voice is calming. Bokuto could probably fall asleep to it, "Work is work. I try to forget about it when I go home but it's a hard thing to follow."

Bokuto makes a sound of agreement, "Maintaining a work-life balance is very hard for me too. It haunts me before I go to sleep like, 'Ah...only if I did this and that better' or something along the lines of that. But I try not to let it bother me! Other people will start to notice and wonder if you're alright."

Akaashi stands still as a breeze plays with his bangs. Bokuto feels his cheeks turn red, "Sorry. I'm chatty."

"You're not wrong," Akaashi leans against the building, watching the smokers throw their butts into the tray and stomp back towards the building. Some of them wave at him, shouting, " _Fighting Writer-san!_ " His hand, with a silver watch around the wrist, rakes into his thick hair, "My parents have been complaining that I need a hobby. But it's hard, as you said, to let it not bother you."

"Freelancing is your job?" But then what were those workers screaming? 

"Mmm. I write. Right now I'm contracted to work on an animated series as one of their writers. It's my first time adapting the story from a book. It's a very interesting story line actually," Akaashi fiddles with his hands as he talks, and when he stops, he turns to Bokuto, cheeks lifted.

"Oho? What's the pitch?" He eggs him on.

"Childhood friends who lost their families to a sub-species of humans called ghouls," Akaashi says quickly, "In the story they make the choice to hunt down those ghouls as revenge for their family. It's the prequel of the main story line, so there's a lot of backstory to be filled as their story intersects with the main one."

Bokuto gasps, "Wait! Wait! Is the series called "I Need You So Much Closer'?!"

"Yes!"

Bokuto hops on the spot, "I'm a fan of that! The pacing rushes at certain parts at times, but it's still a solid plot line!"

Akaashi snaps his fingers, "Yes, the pacing is something that the author needs to work on— do you know her other books? She does it in her other works as well."

"I've only read the one that was released three years ago. It had an obscure name, something like Anna? Arri?" Bokuto shuts his eyes, trying to remember the title of the book from the library's bookshelves.

"Aria."

"Aria! What did you think of it?" Bokuto sees Akaashi's face light up. It's the most expressive the office worker has been throughout their brief face-to-face talks, "I think the tone of the story is quite different from I Need You So Much Closer, it's an interesting take on how characters weave in and out of each other's lives. She goes forward and back with different books for the same character."

Akaashi tilts his head thoughtfully, crossing his arms, "I enjoyed it because her writing tone was consistent. If you read her works from six years ago they had a vastly...amateur tone? But she was starting out, so it made sense. Aria is as different from I Need You So Much Closer as Turnabout Queen is to Hippocratic Oath. I think that so far her magnum opus is Your Lie."

"Your Lie? I haven't read that one. Have you read the one that was recently published?" 

"Oh?" Akaashi pulls out his phone, "What is it called?"

"The Boy and the Birdcage! It's so good," Bokuto swoons, "The drama! The mystery! The emotions!" 

"I'll make a note to find it then."

"Wait, are you only working on one project for that author?"

Akaashi nods, putting his cellphone away, "A season dedicated to the final book hasn't been announced yet, but it's likely to happen in the future if this one receives good reviews."

"Is she a favorite author of yours? You're willing to read her entire book list just for research?" Bokuto stares at him.

"I like to immerse myself in the project I'm currently working on. It may provide an abstract picture we're missing, especially if there are recurring themes within series that are complete entities from each other throughout the bibliography."

"That's seriously cool," He breathes out.

Akaashi turns pink, taking off his glasses and pulling out lint-free cloth out of his pocket to clean the lens, "It isn't. It's just...researching."

"You must really love stories then," Bokuto smiles at him. 

Akaashi looks up, lashes long and cow-like. Bokuto feels his heart speed up, staring at his clear skin and tousled hair. 

"You'll think it's foolish but I write and read stories to escape from reality," Akaashi smiles down at his glasses, putting away the cloth and tucking his glasses into the left chest pocket as he leans against the building. "My parents tell me it's not a healthy outlook."

"M-Maybe not," Bokuto wets his lips, trying to forget the vision of Akaashi looking up, "But for some people work is work. Go work to make money and spend that money to better your life."

Akaashi stares at him with soft eyes, "...Those are good words."

"They are?"

"I like them, it's different from the mindsets of our parent's generation," Akaashi straightens from the wall, checking his watch, "My break time is over."

Bokuto stuffs the envelope— the reason why he came here out of all things— in his hoodie pocket, feeling sweat run down his neck, "I shouldn't keep you then. Thanks for the money."

Akaashi nods, tilting his head, "Do you mind if we continue talking?"

"Talking?"

"Or texting," Akaashi pulls one corner of his mouth up. He pulls out a package of paper rolled and stuffed into his back pants pocket and waves it like a baton. Bokuto can see a tiny scribble on the front page that says _Episode 6_ , "I'd like to pick your brains about this author. And more if we share mutual favorites."

"S-Sure," Bokuto swallows. "But I'm not that much of a reader. I like to re-read books."

"That's okay, I do that too," Akaashi smiles, his lips stretching up. He bows to him before leaving the gardens, pulling a cellphone with a red case from his other pant pocket and placing it against his ear.

Bokuto drives with one hand back to the station, Kuroo next to him as Captain and Kageyama are debriefing in the back seats, a map blocking their view of the front. He tries to blink the sleepiness away, the sweat on his neck cooling from their earlier rescue.

"Still can't sleep?" Kuroo's mouth twists downwards.

"Well. I can, sort of, the melatonin is helping, but I got back into an old series that basically took over my entire life."

Kuroo takes a deep inhale, "Don't tell me it's that ghou—"

"It is."

Kuroo sighs, sounding like Bokuto is his wayward five year old son, "What made you get back into it? The second episode of the prequel isn't even out yet and the first episode got dismal ratings."

That statement caught Bokuto's ears, "Wait really? The first episode got shit ratings?"

Kuroo pulls out his phone, throwing his features into cool blue light as he scrolls down the screen, "Yeah, apparently some parts of the fight scenes look really choppy and amateur. The music and pacing stuck true to the book though, but people are angry online."

"Huh," Bokuto replies, frowning slightly as he waits patiently for the garage doors to lift completely before backing the truck in and killing the engine.

"Alright team, into the conference room for a briefing," Captain orders, clapping his large hands together as he herds them. They start complaining as they hop off, Bokuto emerging last from the truck as he spins the keys on his pointer finger and thinking about a certain office worker. "Come on! The sooner we get this done the sooner we can shower off the sweat! I want no complaints!"

His phone buzzes in his pocket.

Akaashi Keiji (Conbini): i saw some trucks leave. fire?  
Akaashi Keiji (Conbini): ignore that question, of course it was a fire  
Me: you know! Sometimes it's not fire  
Me: sometimes it's punks setting fireworks off  
Me: which i guess is the definition of a fire hazard but! BUT!  
Me: sometimes we get a 110 call and the caller didn't specify which are needed, so all three are sent  
Akaashi Keiji (Conbini): welcome back  
Me: it's eleven pm!! are you still at work?  
Akaashi Keiji (Conbini): the unfortunate cons of working for an animation house  
Akaashi Keiji (Conbini): episode eight is due for me. it's easy to just compile a list of scenes we're going to animate. not so much for the animators. Kenma-san is struggling  
Me: fighting kenma-san  
Me: do you want coffee? i'm on snack duty again

Bokuto screams when his phone rings, gaining the attention of a deadpan high school student standing at the cash register with a magazine.

"Sorry," He mouths to him, tapping his phone to receive the call without seeing the caller ID, "Bokuto speaking."

" _Bokuto-san_ ," Akaashi greets, voice sounding tinny. He sounds like he's falling asleep at his desk, " _Are you sure about this?_ "

"Yeah, it's no big deal," He speedily walks away from the little magazine and book collection by the window to the beverage wall, "You can pay me back with LINE pay or however you want to. I'm standing in front of the drinks, what do you want?"

" _Boss coffee, iced long black. The can is a darker brown color than the latte version_."

"Ah!" Bokuto spots it, "Okay, one of that. What else?"

" _Grapefruit Strong Zero_."

Bokuto laughs, "You don't drive right? How many?"

" _Just one would suffice for my slipping sanity...Is there anything left in the hot food section?_ "

Bokuto saunters over, "One lonely gyudon bowl, two curries. Ooo I see a pizzaman! Do you want one?"

" _Sure_ ," Akaashi mumbles into his ear. Bokuto freezes, goosebumps erupting all over his skin, " _And can you get two curries?_ "

"Do they even feed you properly there?" Bokuto tries to talk as normally as possible, attempting a fake laugh, "Unless this is actually for more than one person."

" _I haven't eaten all day. Someone ate my lunch that had my name on it. I'm this close to murder_."

Bokuto eeps, sweeping his entire arm at whatever onigiris are left and making a bee-line to the counter. He taps his card and flees the store, "That sounds unfortunate. You should set up cameras."

" _Very funny. I heard the door jingle, are you on your way?_ "

"I am."

Bokuto hears something shift in his ear, " _I'll go down then, you can meet me at the front doors._ " There's a click and Bokuto runs across the street, feeling more awake than he usually is. He feels his cheeks warm in the cold night breeze. Having the hots for a random stranger is embarrassing; he'll die if Kuroo finds out.

When he gets to the tall office tower, Akaashi is standing outside, having discarded his tie and the first two buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. He's rolling up his sleeves when Bokuto comes walking his way, his lanyard with the pen still around his neck.

"Bokuto-san," He greets him calmly as his hair spells stress with some of its gravity defying strands. Bokuto holds his breath as he bows and hands over the bag over, trying not to laugh. Akaashi maintains a bother-me-not facade that quickly disappears when he sees the onigiris.

"What's this?"

"Extra calories just in case you can't go home?" Bokuto answers. Then he slaps his forehead; it would be rude and awkward if Akaashi had a budget for eating out that month and he just went over it, "Oh don't worry about the money, I'm your senpai, let me—"

Akaashi doesn't seem bothered, sticking the bag through one forearm as he unwraps one onigiri at the speed of light and swallows half of it, "How do _you_ know you're my senpai? What if it's the opposite?"

Bokuto raises an eyebrow, "Akaashi, look at my forehead. I have more wrinkles, therefore I am eons wiser and older."

"Hm," Akaashi hums, chewing. "Are you dehydrated? Do you wear sunscreen?"

"No. And no."

"Then it could be untrue, I could be older," Akaashi finishes his third onigiri and offers one to him. Salmon and mayo. "Eat. You look tired too."

Bokuto accepts it, pulling the wrappers carefully as Akaashi drags them to a bench off to the side of the building, "Not really. I feel fine. But since we're on this topic, how old do you think I am?"

Akaashi pulls his reading glasses off his face and studies Bokuto. It's a terrible idea, because Bokuto tries to chew with normalcy as he fights off butterflies erupting in his stomach. Akaashi, after getting fed, looks as ethereal as he usually is.

"Late twenties," Akaashi purses his mouth.

Bokuto laughs, "Wrong! My turn, my turn."

Akaashi patiently sits as he pulls the tab of his can of coffee, sipping it. Bokuto watches his throat bob up and down, feeling his stomach start to ache.

"I don't know. Twenty-four?"

The side of Akaashi's mouth quirks up, "Not even close," He shows off a row of straight teeth, "But thank you for the compliment."

"Twenty-six?" Bokuto tries again. Akaashi shakes his head. "Well, maybe another day then. You said in your texts that you're working on episode eight. If the animators are still on episode three, do you technically finish ahead of the animation team?"

"Mhm, but we also start earlier. At least at this company," Akaashi adds, "Yahaba-san and I started our contract in April, and it's going to expire before summer ends."

"What's going to happen after it ends?"

"I usually try to look for other jobs before it ends, but there had been times where I was unemployed for several months," Akaashi takes another sip of his coffee, looking up at the clear skies as he drains it. Bokuto watches him pull out the Strong Zero can before looking away. There was no chance of star-gazing in Tokyo, but the skies still look peaceful nonetheless, "Usually if I'm unemployed I focus on my own projects while working at a nearby conbini part time."

"Right, you're a writer. Have you written anything?"

"A lot," Akaashi sighs, like the news is a big secret that he's been keeping to himself, "Rejected to all the publishing houses. My parents are going to keel over when I tell them I can't find a job after FKDN."

Bokuto bites off another mouthful of onigiri, chewing as he gathers his thoughts, "What part of writing do you like?"

"...I guess developing the story and characters," Akaashi quietly says, "Sometimes I really envisioned one character to be this way or the other, but when it came time to put them into action I couldn't and the story goes in a different direction like they're actually sentient. These days I've been stuck in a rut. I want to write but I end up writing five thousand words worth of junk that has nothing to do with the plot."

"Have you thought about stepping away from it for a bit? Do something else and let the creative juices mellow and marinate into something better? Do you have hobbies?" Bokuto claps his hands together, "Oh, how about you hang out with friends?"

"I have no friends," Akaashi deadpans.

"Uh—"

"And I don't feel like doing my hobby," Akaashi sighs. With the way the plastic bag is swinging freely in his hand as he slouches on the bench, the wind playing with his bangs, Bokuto wonders if he's ever been scouted on the street as a model or actor, "I have them, but most of the are busy and the one I talk to most is baby sitting his...neighbour's son I think? The child sounds very fussy."

"That does sound difficult," Bokuto agrees absently, "I understand why your parents would worry then. At least you're not like your friend's neighbour, juggling a kid and all."

"Yes thank god for that," Akaashi says bleakly. He turns his attention to Bokuto, arching one eyebrow, "What about you?"

"Me?"

"Kid? Kids? Wife?"

"No no," He laughs, "Single. Life is a bit of a mess for me right now. I'm used to working second and third shifts but suddenly I couldn't sleep, and I would go into forty-eight hour shifts with only three hours of sleep to get me through. Sleeping during the shift is hard too, like my body knows I'm suppose to be alert. Anyway, yeah," Bokuto waves his hand around, "It's a mess."

Akaashi frowns, "I can't imagine trying to adjust back and forth to different shifts."

"Eh, yeah, but it keeps me going you know? The thought of me helping people," Bokuto remembers his first fire clearly. His mask had pressed so hard against his face that there were indents in his face hours after the rescue. "It's unbelievably hot and you're wearing thirty kilos of gear on your back. You have this heavy hose filled with water and you need steady hands to keep your aim! I see all my other friends make more money and think if I could work at a desk and I really can't. Firefighting is everything."

"Did you always want to be a firefighter?"

Bokuto nods, "Did you always want to be an author?"

Akaashi surprisingly shakes his head, "No, I was actually in finances until a couple of years ago. EY."

"Wow, one of the big four!"

"You've heard of it?" Akaashi cocks his head to the side.

"My dad's an accountant for a small company, but yeah, I've heard of EY. One of my neighbors— Hanamaki-san works at Deloitte, and I hear him talk about EY sometimes. Were you an auditor?"

"No," Akaashi laughs bitterly. The sound is ugly from someone as beautiful as him. Akaashi traces the rim of his can with his pinkie, peering at the ground with his mouth lifted in a minuscule smirk, "I was a senior risk analyst. I've been working there for eight years before I left."

Bokuto does the quick math in his head, "Why did you leave?"

"Corporate drama and office politics to name a few," Akaashi lists off in a sing-song voice, "And because I've been passed up for promotions far too many times to coworkers who are completely incompetent. So I quit. From what my former coworkers have been telling me, they've been struggling to find someone else to fill in the holes."

"Ah," Bokuto looks at the ground, studying how if he squints, the stones would make a vague picture of an ice cream cone.

Akaashi turns his head towards him, his profile softly backlit from the golden light of a streetlamp faraway, "How old am I?"

"Thirty?" When Akaashi nods, Bokuto looks away, giving a brief look to the can in his hands and wondering if he's treading dangerous waters.

"What made you into writing then?"

"Minored in Literature when I was in Waseda," Akaashi shrugs, "And I read a lot in high school. Literature was my escape back then. How ironic that I'm escaping from my escape now," He takes another swing of alcohol, "My thirties doesn't look good so far, the water are turbulent and I'm just trying to fight the waves and get to safety."

Akaashi speaks again, "It must be nice to know what you wanted to do since little."

"There's good and bad with every job," Bokuto laughs, thinking that he's showing his true age by lecturing him, "Just like there's bad and good in life. That's why I treat a job as a job. There's parts of it that'll always suck to deal with, but I can better my life doing something else, but I'm just a simple firefighter, what do I know?"

A huff of laughter, "You must be the senpai, I believe you now."

"I didn't mean to lecture," He says apologetically.

"No, no," Akaashi sighs, "Maybe it's time for me to face reality, so thank you, Bokuto-san."

"I'll tell you a secret," He says, getting to his feet and checking his phone. Kuroo is three minutes away from calling the cops on him. He pockets it away and stares into Akaashi's tired face, the alcohol giving his cheeks a pink flush, "Sometimes when I'm at my wits end, I go on long bike rides to nowhere. I just get on my bike and start pedaling. And when I see all the different shops and restaurants that exists in the neighbourhood it makes me feel accomplished!"

"Is that your escape?"

"I guess it is," Bokuto pats Akaashi's shoulder, "I have to go back to the station now, Akaashi. Hang in there, you seem resourceful, I think you can handle yourself just fine."

He waves and starts walking, leaving Akaashi to sit half hidden in the shadows, sipping his drink as the clock ticks towards a new day.

"Hey Bo," Kuroo greets him at the door when he keys in for another shift. The entire station is suspiciously deserted, "Don't bother dropping your stuff, we got a call."

Bokuto swears, tossing his backpack to a corner, "Where's Captain?"

"Rounding the little birds," Kuroo rushes him towards the map in the middle of the conference room, already dressed in his firefighter's pants as he crosses his arms, muscles sticking out of the dark blue t-shirt he's wearing, "We're teaming up with police and EHS."

Bokuto drops the faxes he'd been inspecting, "Why?"

"Arson and explosives."

He sighs, running to the locker room and jumping into his pants and boots, "Guess they took someone along with them?" He zips up his jacket and hoists his oxygen tank on one hand, running out as Kuroo follows suit, strapping his tank to his back.

"Yeah, that's why police is there. It's an office building nearby, I don't know if you've heard of FKDN? That tele company."

"FKDN?" Bokuto echoes, halting in the middle of the hallway as someone bumps into him from behind. "I have a friend there."

Kuroo thins his mouth, "Me too. Five of them in fact. Let's go."

They run towards the garage together, leaping onto the seats as Captain yells for last minute orders for anyone who are still lagging behind to take the third and fourth truck. Bokuto starts the siren as he inches forward, checking left and right for traffic as he cuts through two lanes of traffic, speeding two blocks down. Four other fire trucks are already there, Yaku pointing left and right and directing his teams through a radio.

"YAKU!" Kuroo hollers out of the window, not waiting for Bokuto to stop as he leaps out of the truck while it's moving.

"Kuroo!" Bokuto complains, cutting the engine and seeing a runner come up to him. "Lev! You caught the earlier trucks?"

"I did!" Lev pants, helmet crooked as he straightens. Bokuto watches as the first few floors of the office building burn at a controlled rate, seven firefighters dowsing the fire out. Captain and Yaku are speaking to a paramedic and officer at the center of the front yard where he and Akaashi were sitting days ago.

"What's going on?"

Lev points to the first few floors missing windows, "Bombs along the perimeter wall. No one got hurt since the employees are out for a team-building exercise today, lucky for them." He points to the floors above that, where black smoke is billowing out like steam, "Now that one is new. Fire on the seventeenth building, no bombs so far. Police is on the line with bombers and are trying to get them to let the rest of the employees on that floor evacuate."

"I heard something about insurance," Bokuto presses, wanting to grab his cellphone and call Akaashi, "And do we know how many people are left in the building?"

"No one knows, it's an animating studio on the seventeenth floor," Lev quickly says as Bokuto feels blood rushing out of his face, "Some of the animators and workers stay late and there's no answer for them yet."

"Fuck," Bokuto looks away, staring up at the office building continuing to smoke, "How about the people who've been evacuated?"

"They work at different floors and have no status on the seventeenth. The south fire exit could be blocked so we're thinking since we haven't heard anything, maybe they're all stuck there."

"How about the insurance?"

"Just released, but Kuroo-san's friends are still unaccounted for and he knew that they're still working today."

Bokuto stares across the square at how Kuroo is arguing with Captain, helmet in his hands as he gestures wildly. He thanks Lev for the update and checks his phone for replies.

Me: akaashi!  
Me: are you okay?  
Me: pls tell me you're not in that building

He goes to Kuroo, who's pacing in tight circles, "Kuroo, the police know what they're doing."

"They're taking too long!" Kuroo growls, glaring at the cluster of policemen as another wave of sirens float towards them. They turn and look to see bomb specialists emerge from the back of a truck, the leader marching straight to the police.

"Kuroo, don't do anything rash, do you hear?" Captain warns them, "If you get in the way they'll kick you out and there's nothing I can do if you interfere with their operations."

"Isn't there anything we can do?" Kuroo begs. "My friends are there! They're on the seventeenth floor!"

The bomb squad run into the building with large shields and a black toolkit. Bokuto stares at the building as Captain tries to console Kuroo, hoping that Akaashi is only stuck in the fire exit.

Me: akaashi  
Me: akaashi!!!!  
Me: akaashi please answer!

"They're going to send Team One and Three to unblock the fire exit on the seventeenth floor," Captain says as they all cling to him like a herd of sheep, "What, Kuroo?"

"Let me join."

"Me too," Bokuto says with his hand up. Captain nods and shoos them to Yaku, who is crouching on the ground as the police officers are setting up tents and building plastic tables, bent over floor plans of the office tower spread on the ground.

"We're going in with someone from the bomb squad to see if we can unblock the fire exit on the seventeenth floor," Yaku tells them, looking up from his squat. Bokuto and Kuroo crouch down to meet his eye-level. "There's a lot of tools to haul up since the elevators stopped working. Can I count on you both to help Lev carry them?"

"What else?" Kuroo urges him.

"The police's words take precedent. If they tell you to go back, you go back, understand?" Yaku frowns, switching his gaze to Kuroo, "Kuroo, I know Kenma and the others are there, but it won't help anyone if you get injured and there's no way for you to walk back down."

"Yaku, it's killing me not knowing what's going on!"

"I want your word, Kuroo."

"Fine!" Kuroo growls, "I promise to follow the bomb squad's words."

Yaku stands up, grabbing Kuroo's helmet and clicking it around his chin, "Be careful, you massive idiot."

Kuroo bends down and gives him a short hug before letting go, "Ready Bo?"

Bokuto glances at his phone before pocketing it, "Let's go."

They help Lev carry a medley of items in a canvas bag, going up in endless circles as they reach the eight, ninth, tenth floor. The bomb squad specialist pursue on relentlessly, her eyes like ice chips as Kuroo follows. Bokuto, Lev and the rest of Team One and Three pick up their pace. His oxygen tank weighs a ton and the straps digs into his muscles. He feels tired from lugging around gear on himself and extra gear for the team.

Still, he thinks of Akaashi in his black pants and pressed shirt possibly knocked unconscious somewhere from smoke travelling up and hastens his pace.

The bomb specialist, a woman called Narumi, stops them from opening the north fire exit, pressing the radio on her shoulder, "Takeshi, is it safe? Over."

"Safe, over."

Narumi opens the door, oxygen mask strapped to her face. Bokuto follows and immediately feels flames licking his ankles as Lev hands his bag over to him to radio Captain to pump the hoses they brought with them.

Half of them work on extinguishing the flames as he and Kuroo prowl up the cubicles, checking underneath tables for bodies. Narumi kicks the door of the south fire exit, ramming her shoulder into it with no luck as she bounces off.

"Something is blocking this," She pants.

"Bokuto and I will go up to the eighteenth and cross over to the south then," Kuroo tells her. He takes off as soon as her chin dips south in a nod, dragging Bokuto along with him.

"Wait!" Narumi is running after them, "The eighteenth is riddle with explosives!"

Kuroo halts, Bokuto bouncing off of him, "I'll wait for them to finish then. Help me break down the door, Bo."

Bokuto taps the hot metal door, wondering if there are unconscious bodies on the other side of the metal. He starts ramming his fists, yelling, "HEY! Is there anyone on the other side?"

Lev gasps as furious poundings of fists reply. 

"The door is blocked!" Bokuto shouts through the steel, trying to press his ears close to the metal without burning his skin, "Try to move whatever is blocking it if you can! TWO kicks for yes, THREE for no!"

Three long kicks.

"Fuck!" Kuroo curses.

Narumi barks into her radio for the eighteenth floor specialists to hurry up. Bokuto raises his voice once more, "OK! We'll try to get to you another way! Just wait!"

Two kicks.

"How much longer for them?" Kuroo grills her, his height looming over her as she glares up at him.

"They're working as hard as possible, don't rush them. If they cut the wrong color this entire building could collapse," She glares, voice muffled from the mask around her face. 

Kuroo stalks off to help put out fires. Bokuto radios Captain outside the building with what's going on currently. When the entire floor is extinguished, Narumi approaches them with the go ahead to go up.

Bokuto and Kuroo races up one floor, kicking down the north exit as seventh bomb squad members sit back with twenty black boxes with colorful wires erupting from the middle. They enter the smokey south exit and fly down a set of stairs.

Part of the ceiling caved in, a slab of concrete and wiring leaning against the fire exit. No wonder they couldn't push it.

"Kenma!" Kuroo goes forward to immediately hug a disgruntled man with bleached hair and dark roots. Bokuto does a count of the huddled bodies, all of them with tied handkerchiefs around their nose and mouth. They shuffle to the side and Bokuto gasps, seeing a familiar mop of hair.

"Akaashi!"

"Akaashi?!" Kuroo whirls around, "Fuck!"

Bokuto drops on his knees, firmly tapping Akaashi's shoulders with his palms, "Akaashi! Hey! HEY! HEY! Akaashi can you hear me?" He leans down and pulls off his tie to feel for a pulse and listen for an inhale, "Kuroo! Call Captain to send an EHS runner! Why doesn't he have a handkerchief?"

One of the animators speaks up, "He gave it to me."

Lev's voice echoes in the stairwell as he runs down, "Bokuto-san? I heard shouts through the door."

"Lev!" Kuroo gets to his feet, "Get the bomb squad in here and help up carry people out. Do you have a spare oxygen mask?"

Bokuto watches as Lev dig around in his canvas bag, unearthing a bright orange case with a white cross. He throws it down to them and starts picking people up, lifting them in a fireman's hold and running.

Bokuto opens the kit, feeling his face sweat even more from his hot breath reflecting back to him in his mask. He pulls the straps over Akaashi's face and connects it to his tank, wiggling his gloves off and grabbing his flashlight from his pockets.

He gently peels back one eyelid, watching Akaashi's pupils constrict when he waves the light around. He presses the seal tightly around his face as Akaashi continues to take shallow breaths.

The EHS runner finally wheezes into the scene with two paramedics following behind with a stretcher. Bokuto briefs them shortly and watches as they check for breaks in his limbs before strapping him and disconnecting him from Bokuto's oxygen tank to a smaller one tucked next to him.

"Thanks," The EHS runner says, "We'll take care of him now."

"Let's go Bo," Kuroo says, Kenma slung over his shoulder as the animator shares oxygen masks with Kuroo.

Bokuto follows the runners down, emerging from the building through the south exit and making a beeline to Captain when he itches to sneak to the medic tent.

"Captain," He says, pulling off his mask with a pop and feeling the cool summer night descend on his overheating skin.

"Kuroo and Bokuto, good job," Captain says, relieved as his shoulders slump downward. "They found the bombers too, I sent Team Two ahead to check all the floors and found them all cleared."

"So we're done?" Bokuto asks, watching him nod. "Can I go to the medic tent? One of my friends is there."

Captain shoos him. Bokuto sprints across the front of the building, pulling back the plastic coverings and watching paramedics and doctors pulled out of nearby hospitals work on scene.

He finds Akaashi in a corner, immediately going to his knees next to the cot and watching him blink at him in recognition as he breathes through an oxygen mask. There's a yellow ribbon tied around his wrist. Bokuto fusses with the blanket around his chest as his eyes starts pricking painfully

Akaashi squeezes his hands, mouthing, _thank you_.

Bokuto laughs wetly, glad that his fellow firefighters are outside. He bends his head down and sniffs discreetly, letting Akaashi weakly run his hands through his sweat-soaked hair.

"It was moderate carbon monoxide poisoning and severe dehydration," Akaashi says, walking along and tugging his IV pole. Bokuto follows dutifully, having careened into the hospital the moment his shift was over and watching Akaashi endure Dr. Oikawa Tooru's neurological bedside exams before the doctor chirps at him to stay one more night for observation.

"Did they do a CT and MRI?"

"Yes, all clear, of course. That doctor is really something," He adds as an after thought.

Bokuto hides his yawn, squinting against the summer evening as the sun still hangs high in the sky. Both of them settle on a bench facing a small pond, Akaashi fiddling with his IV line.

Bokuto stares his hand where the line is inserted into a blue vein. This is the first time he's seen Akaashi out of office wear, and he realizes how delicate his wrists are.

"Thank you for saving me," Akaashi says softly, turning his head to face him. 

Bokuto smiles at him, "I was just doing my job."

An arch of his eyebrow, "And are visiting the people you save part of your job description? Did you visit Kenma-san and Yahaba-san?"

"N-No, not usually," Bokuto swallows. "Just you."

"So I'm getting special treatment?"

"I can't tell if you're mad or not," Bokuto truthfully says, "But I can leave if you want."

Akaashi is quick to clamp his cold hands on Bokuto's forearm, "Sit. And stay. Please. I just wanted to thank you. I knew you carried me down seventeen flights of stairs in the heat and with gear on your back as well."

Bokuto gives a puzzled hoot of surprise, "I most definitely did not. You were in a stretcher."

"Oh so I was hallucinating," Akaashi mumbles to himself, steadily turning red in the orange light, "Good to know."

"Hallucinations is one of the symptoms of carbon monoxide poisonings, don't worry about it," He pats his shoulder. "They don't expect you to go back to work after you get discharged right?"

"No, the fire did give me a hefty extra bonus," Akaashi says, "And the studio covered the hospital bills. My finances look sturdy if I were to say, be unemployed for six months after summer ends. That's the good thing to come out of being held at gunpoint for ten seconds."

Bokuto frowns, crossing his arms in the heat, "I can't believe they did that."

"Humans," Akaashi shrugs, as if he's not human himself. "We are fickle beings."

Bokuto's phone rings, a special tune that he's set for the station number. He sighs as Akaashi fiddles with his fingers.

"Bokuto speaking," He listens as the other Captain begs for him to come in for a few hours. Just for a few short hours pretty please he'll pay him double.

"Double?" Bokuto grimaces at a tree across of him, sneaking a look at Akaashi studying his hospital-issued slippers, "I kind of have plans— Alright, alright please don't cry I'll be right there."

He plucks his bag from the ground and hefts it on one shoulder, spinning to see Akaashi's mouth curl up, "You got called?"

"They sound like they're in trouble. And it'll be nice to get paid extra, I suppose. Do you need me to help you get back to your room?"

Akaashi laughs, waving him away with the hand that has the IV stuck in it, "Go be a hero, Bokuto-san. I'll see you later."

Bokuto rushes off, looking back once when he's about to enter the hospital. Akaashi is still sitting in the same bench, his back looking more lonely than ever, one hand gripping his IV pole.

Bokuto looks in dismay at his phone. It seems that his favorite ASMR artist has hit a slump. Ashi25183 hasn't posted videos for a month now. Bokuto wiggles in his bed and taps a playlist, plugging his phone to charge, closing his eyes as soft fingertips begin to tap on a desk.

"Hey Bo," Kuroo peeks into the nap room, watching Bokuto look up from his book. "There's a visitor."

"Okay," Bokuto goes back to his book.

"A visitor for you," Kuroo says. Bokuto can hear the eye roll even though Kuroo has slammed the door closed shut. He places the book face down on the table, breaking the spine even further on the beat up paperback, grabbing his cellphone and pocketing it as he shuffles out. He yawns, checking the clock and smelling food. Kuroo must have gotten back from buying snacks.

"Oh," Bokuto stops when he steps out into the main conference room, seeing Akaashi hovering awkwardly with eight pairs of eyes on him. "Hey, let's...go somewhere else."

Akaashi follows him quietly outside, holding a nondescript canvas bag in his hand. He's dressed slightly differently. A new pair of glasses perches on his nose and he's wearing a dark blue long sleeve as he picks at his pants for lint.

"What's up?" Bokuto says, leaning against the station and feeling the summer night nip at his goosebumps.

Akaashi holds out the canvas bag at him, "A thank you. You had to leave so I thought I'd bring something to you for once," Bokuto brings the bag closer to him, peering inside to find various drinks and snacks. Oddly, there was a white plush of a stuffed cloud with a cute expression.

He feels his ears heat, hoping his hair covers it, "Oh you really didn't have to! But thank you...." He hugs the bag and the stuffed animal, feeling the sharp edge of a box of milk poke at his ribs. "Seeing you walk around healthy is the best gift really."

"I'm guessing this isn't needed then?" Akaashi pulls out an envelope Bokuto missed, waving two movie tickets in the air.

Bokuto looks at his curls dancing in the wind, reaching forward and holding Akaashi's hand. The skin is smooth. Free of callouses, so unlike his own. He holds it for such a long time that Akaashi eventually says, "...Only if you're interested."

"I am, but I'm pretty old," Bokuto laughs.

Akaashi rolls his eyes, "Thirty-five isn't old."

"You're pretty bold, I wouldn't have thought," Bokuto teases, pressing their heads together. He hears Akaashi huff a quiet laugh.

Akaashi kisses his hand, "I'll see you in three days?"

Bokuto hums.

He comes out of a dream, dregs of sleep still clinging to him. There's a soft rustle next to his ear as a pale hand slowly drags fingers up and down the fluffy cloud-like stuffed animal Akaashi had given to him months ago.

Bokuto watches as Akaashi smiles down at him, petting RJ absently as he holds one of the many paperbacks from Bokuto's shelf in his hand, glasses sliding down his nose.

He burrows deeper into his bed, cuddling Akaashi and the white cloud, drifting away.

**Author's Note:**

> 2020 so far did not spark joy (sobs into my own imaginary RJ). i was supposed to be on vacation in asia right now, but due to the virus, i had to cancel. with the combination of PPE shortages, covering for sick calls and rotating shifts, i had burnt out very quickly and had no energy to work/even start on The Boy and the Birdcage as i promised. 
> 
> writing this and subjecting akaashi and bokuto to what i'm going through felt...sort of cathartic? even though in my deepest of hearts i wish happiness for them.


End file.
